


unleashed

by roxymissrose



Series: The Dog [2]
Category: Smallville
Genre: M/M, Non-Graphic Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-21
Updated: 2012-02-21
Packaged: 2017-10-31 13:48:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/344727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roxymissrose/pseuds/roxymissrose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Every dog must have his day."</p>
            </blockquote>





	unleashed

**Author's Note:**

> wondered if there was anything more to say about Clark's character in The Dog, and wondered if a reconciliation between Clark and his parents was possible. I thought, yeah, I think so.
> 
> Originally posted 6-9-2008

_"Every dog must have his day." - Jonathan Swift_

1

Sun glowed at the edge of the meadow, poured through the leafy canopy above them, made the white flowers of woodruff dotting the deep green glow like tiny lights, painted Clark's skin liquid gold. Lex gazed down at him drowning in his beauty and thought how much Clark looked like a golden statue come to life, as if Eros had breathed life into a work of art to claim as his own. Lex pushed into him, slowly as he possibly could, moaned quietly as he sunk into Clark's inhuman heat. Being inside him was like leaving the world behind and waking in a paradise that was complete because Clark was there with him. For Lex, the wonder was in watching Clark caught up unselfconsciously in the throes of passion, his head thrown back, groaning, laughing, full of joy…no visible trace left of that broken whipped pit dog he'd been, not at this moment, not here…

Clark flexed his fingers deep in the carpet of emerald grass, the scent of woodruff, earth, of Clark aroused, flooded Lex's senses--made his heart beat faster, made his thrusts more urgent.  
"LexLexLex…" Clark chanted his name over and over, a low grumble meant only for his own ears, and every syllable accented with a groan and a tightening of muscle, as if just saying Lex's name was bringing Clark closer to orgasm, just the shape and sound of the word. Lex moaned at the thought, he flexed, and shuddered himself, almost too close now. Clark growled, "Faster, harder, harder…"

Lex loved this part, being able to throw caution away, to put everything he had into filling Clark, to pounding wildly into him, without fear of hurting him—knowing that anything he did to Clark, Clark would take and love. "Lex," Clark cried, and dropped his head between his arms, pushed back as Lex pushed forward but Clark was careful where Lex was not, always careful unless Lex begged him, "hurt me…"

Lex tightened all over, flash after flash of sizzling heat filled him. Clark's breath hitched with every thrust, Lex reached under him and took the velvet shaft in his hand. Clark pushed a few times and Lex barely had time to enjoy the feel before Clark was jerking, filling Lex's hand—it drew him over the edge into his own orgasm.

* * * * 

Clean again, still damp from swimming in the nearby river, they lay next to each other in the grass, Clark having coaxed Lex out into the full sun of the open meadow. Clark sprawled, legs and arms wide like a kid. He could never get enough sun, and Lex could never get enough of the way Clark looked…the way it made Clark's skin light up from inside, the way it turned his hair to softly gleaming onyx—in Lex's mind, that was Clark under the sun.

With a slim green blade, Lex traced the line of hair trailing from chest to belly, between Clark's legs, tickled the long soft line of his dick with the sprig of grass, drew it higher again and dipped it into Clark's navel until he giggled and shifted. Lex smiled and traced the line of Clark's full, rose tinted lips. When Clark made a sound of protest he bent to sooth the tickle with his mouth and his tongue.

When he released Clark's mouth he sighed, "This is so nice, Lex. I wish we could stay here. So quiet…all I can hear is you and me." He rolled, twisted around Lex, and Lex smelled again the fragrant odor of the crushed leaves and Clark--dark, and sweet. Lex buried his face in Clark's neck. 

"Me too. But we can’t—I can’t. I need to be. Be in the city. Our city."

A fleeting frown swept over Clark's face. "I tell you over and over, your city. Not mine." He groaned, "Please Lex, I don't want to fight. I want to enjoy our picnic." A twitch of his hips and he was straddling Lex. "Let's have fun again."

"Hello," Lex said. "Garden variety mutant here. I need to rest, and we need to go soon. You have a job to do tonight." 

Clark looked mildly interested. "Carver Street? Or the Stone District? Or something good?" 

"Sorry, nothing but the usual…someday you won't have to do this any more. But for now…it's Stone District," Lex sighed. "They won't be sensible. We might need to make an example of them…"

Clark shuddered, like a setter shaking off water. His eyes changed, from the deep warm jade that always made Lex's pulse speed, to the flat moss green they turned when he was working. Lex could see his pupils open, even in the almost too bright sunlight. "Let's go home and get it over with," he said, and even his voice changed--lower, a touch of harshness that normally wasn't there... 

Lex nodded, dressed and held his arms out to Clark when he was done. Clark swept him up. "Keep your head close, lover, and hold on tight, okay?" Lex smiled. Clark said the same every time he picked Lex up to fly with him.

_2_

"Stop going there." Lex frowned angrily at Clark, who stood leaning against the bookshelves, his expression half savage, half torn with pain, his hair wild from pulling at it.

"I can't!" Clark shouted. "I wouldn't have to if you'd let me kill them!"

"I'm not stopping you—I never once said for you not to…I've only asked you to listen and you won't; you won't let me touch you in this one thing—why?"

Clark whirled to face him and his eyes were red, fire red…the rumble that poured out between his clenched teeth made Lex freeze…he knew his racing heartbeat gave his fear away….Clark immediately dropped his eyes, dropped his head, and shuffled towards Lex. Took his hand. "No fighting, Lex. No fighting." He dropped to his knees and wrapped his arms around Lex's waist. 

Lex wrapped his hands around Clark's head, stroked his hair flat and soothed him, with words, with touch…he didn't know what to do…maybe he should kill them himself, spare Clark…he'd thought to do so more than once, but as every other time, he dismissed it. If he could only make Clark see how important it was to forget….

* * * *

He came walking into the glass walled space that served as Lex's office and had once been, for a little boy, a glass walled prison. The huge dark hulk of the man the little boy had grown into blocked the light, made Lex look up. Clark smiled at him, a black mask across his eyes made his eyes seem unnaturally bright. The thick black leather he wore creaked as he moved and looked ugly, heavy, threatening, just as it was designed to. Lex moved towards Clark, and the thick coppery sweet smell assaulted him, made his mouth water unpleasantly. Clark lifted his arms and Lex heard the faint rip- pop of sticky surfaces releasing. The mask around his eyes flaked as he swiped at it…it was a streak of dried blood.

"Unh-unh—don't touch. I'm covered with stuff." He turned towards the bar, took a bottle of water from the small fridge there. "I took his lieutenant for a ride. He's at the Carver building. Here and there. And the Stone District too…here and there. That should hold them for a while. I told them that 'their undisciplined attitude displeased you, but you'd decided to be merciful'." He turned back to Lex and raised an eyebrow. "Was that the right thing to say?"

"Oh yes," Lex smiled. "That was perfect."

Clark's brow smoothed, and the smile he gave Lex was wide and bright, his eyes crinkled at the corners. "Oh, good! I hoped that you'd like that. They were so scared—I felt kind of sorry for them but it was their own fault for not listening to you…" he glanced over at Lex's desk and the covered dishes on a tray sitting on it. He leaned a hand on the desk, lifted a few covers, releasing a much more pleasant odor. "Good! I'm starving. Did you eat?" Lex shook his head and Clark sighed, "Thank you for waiting, I love when we eat together." He lifted his hand from the desk and frowned at the red print he left behind. "Oh, let me change first…."

Lex waited for the few minutes it would take for Clark to appear in front of him, clean dry and dressed, in sweater and slacks.

* * * * 

"Don't go there anymore. How many times do I have to tell you? Leave them be. You're only hurting yourself."

"You can’t tell me what to do. I'm not hurting them…I'm just trying to understand!"

"I told you everything. They're old, let them be."

"I'm not hurting them. I'm not…I'm not."

* * * * 

Clark stood at the edge of the fields…his head swept this way and that. He moved higher up the small rise overlooking the farm, deeper into the shadows. From the rear of the farmhouse, he would have been invisible. To Lex's cameras, no spot on the Kent farm was inaccessible. The grainy image of Clark shifted, and reappeared in another field where the cows grazed. He watched them, head tilted in that way Lex knew meant he was using his enhanced hearing…probably listening for the Kents, ready to disappear if one of them tried to get sight of him. Lex sighed and juggled glass and lighter, lit the cigarette that had been hanging ignored in the corner of his mouth. _At least…_ he inhaled, blew out smoke on a curse _…at least he's stopped killing their pets…_ Lex shook his head. _They won’t run…why won't they leave? Idiots._

His fear for what would happen grew as Clark's obsessive scrutiny grew.

  


_\--Why must I feel like that  
Why must I chase the cat  
Nothin' but the dog in me--George Clinton_  


  


_3_  


Clark licked at Lex's freckles, counting them with the tip of his tongue, counting down his breastbone, over the slight swell of his stomach, the crease of his hip…his sucked a brilliant red mark where thigh met hip and watched it disappear, did it again and again until Lex moaned, "My dick's down there too, you know." Clark chuckled and bit him—a sharp quick puppy nip that broke skin and bled—licked at the little red rill and by the time he'd swallowed and the faint taste of salt and copper was gone, so was the wound, clean pink skin gleamed in the low light. Lex was panting, his dick throbbing and dipping with his harsh breath; precome strung thin silver threads from the drooling tip to his belly. Clark caught the threads on his fingers and licked them clean. He crawled up Lex's body like a hungry leopard, hovered over him, smirking, until Lex rose up and pushed him over to his belly.

He loved for Lex to fuck him, told Lex so, loudly, begged him to do it harder faster, now, now—he groaned, shuddered and pushed a hand under himself, stroked his dick, moving almost faster than the human eye could see…he screamed once, short, sharp, and came with Lex. Always…. 

Lex slept, and Clark watched him for a long while. He drew his fingers carefully over his cheek…even in his sleep Lex frowned. His hands were fisted tight, the muscles at his jaw knotted…Clark sighed. He left the bedroom and wandered the apartment, and the ghosts walked with him. He sat in the spot he'd spent years in. The cage was still there, no one else could see it, but it was there. Philip watched him, a little smile curving his beautiful mouth; he winked and shook his finger at him. _not here, Clark._ Clark smiled back, stood and wandered off to the room that had belonged to him. The first place that had truly been his, meant to be a good thing. In the room, on the bedside table, was the first possession that he'd ever had. A book, the book the first person he'd ever loved had given him. He took the book and held it. His fingers traced the title without thinking, _The Giver…_

This was all his. Had been his and Lex had given it to him. This place was the first thing ever given to him…but Lex kept telling him that wasn't true. He wanted him to believe that those people, those…Kents, had done that for him first.

He shook his head. He wished he didn’t have so many different things slamming around in his head. He set the book down, and stroked the cover. He wished…sometimes, secretly, even though he loved Lex so much, so *very* much…he wished sometimes that he was dead. 

Ray was standing next to his bed, he shook his head. _no you don’t_ he whispered. Clark walked past him, through the gym—no, Lex's office—and to the balcony, where he could go whenever he wanted to now. He looked out over the city, and thought, _this whole city knows me, fears me._

Robin looked with him and nodded. _but it should have been different._ Clark said aloud, "It could have been different." 

He concentrated on Lex, who was still asleep, would be for a few hours more…Clark dressed in the black suit, stoked the mark over his heart, went back to the balcony and threw himself into the air.

* * * * 

"What is that?"

Lex looked up to see Clark standing in the library doorway, his expression sliding between horror and rage. "Why is that here?"

Lex looked down at the little scrap of tan and white fur in his hands. "It's a puppy."

Clark glared. "I hate dogs."

"It's not a dog, it's a puppy. Helpless." He stroked its warm head as it snuffled into the crook of his elbow.

"Nothing's helpless," Clark spat. "They just pretend to be."

"Clark," Lex scolded mildly and held the little dog out to him. "Don’t be afraid."

"I'm not afraid!"

"I know. You're not afraid of anything, nothing in the world," Lex said quietly and soothed the startled puppy. 

Clark scowled, knowing what Lex was doing, but slowly reached out to touch the puppy anyway. "I've killed these before. I'm not afraid of them." The puppy licked his finger and Clark forced his hand still. Bit by bit, he relaxed, looked thoughtful. "It won’t be here when I get back?"

"No, Clark."

He nodded. "Okay. I'm going." There'd been a flood in the Delta, and Clark was going, to give aide as a representative of Metropolis and of LuthorCorp, which was donating large amounts of money and manpower. "I like doing this. I like it better than the other thing, you know?"

"I hope someday all you'll ever have to do is help." He put the dog down and cupped Clark's cheek, moved his hand down to trace the red and purple LuthorCorp logo, right over the heart of the suit. "I love that you want that, Clark."

"I love you, Lex…"

"I know…now go. See you when you get back." He watched Clark until he was only a black dot against the white of the clouds. He sighed and at a persistent tugging of his laces, looked down. "All right, you. Let's get you home. I promise you, you're going to like it a lot better there than here."

* * * * 

Cal touched down on the driveway, lightly enough that the gravel was undisturbed. She was surprised he he'd come that close to the house. From the living room window, she watched him look around, head back…she knew he was listening to the tractor in the back field. She debated calling Jonathan, but decided not to. Fear licked at her and her heart skipped a beat, but she squashed it. Rumors and stories leaked out of Metropolis…she was a smart woman and it took her little to fill in the gaps and his visits used to be so horrible…but neither Jonathan or she could hate and neither of them could stop hoping and when the visits became…benign…they hoped that much more.

She'd taken chances. She'd left little tokens in the field; she'd left a copy of a photograph on a fence post once. When she'd checked it was gone but it could have been weather, could have been animals…. 

She pulled a sweater on, took a deep breath and stepped out onto the porch. She leaned against the porch railing, steeled herself and said, "Cal." He jerked, even though she knew he'd been aware of her, had been watching her. He inhaled sharply, he looked like he was on the verge of running…he looked angry, fearful…something hard to identify…lost? "We love you, no matter what. We know everything, and we love you and if it was possible, if we'd known, we would have died before…before losing you." She sighed; of course her words were like chaff blown on the wind. "Cal…" All pointless muttering. What he must have suffered at that monster's hand was played out here during his visits…they deserved nothing else. "Cal…I wish…"

"Clark," His voice shocked her—low and harsh, not what she'd imagined at all He repeated, "*Clark.*" 

Her hands flew to her mouth, and she held in a sob through painful force of will. She nodded. 

"I don't understand," he said. "Lex has tried to explain to me, but I don't understand. He said what you did was out of love for me." Cal stopped and frowned, looked around the yard, at the pines, the sunflowers, but not at her. "I think I understand…you didn’t know it would have been better if you'd snapped my neck, instead of letting me go." 

She gasped, pain blooming under her heart, and now tears fell. 

He made an odd move, a kind of tremor that shook him all over, took a step forward. "I was cheated. You were cheated." 

She slowly extended her hand. He reached out with his own and all the while, her heart thumped painfully in her chest. He smiled at her, head tilted. She knew that he was very aware of her fear—would he take her hand, or would he…she held her hand out, steady, and he touched it.

He cupped her hand in his palm, turned it over. "Soft," he said. He stroked a finger over the back her hand and let it go. 

"Ca—Clark. Please…"

He jerked towards the porch…the new puppy came out from under the stairs, his little brown and white head tilted curiously at Clark. She froze, waiting, fearing—but Clark smiled, he laughed to himself, it seemed and it was a good laugh, almost warm. That man had told them it would be different with Cal now and he'd been right. Hope grew. It was strange to imagine a Luthor being the one to possibly bring their son back some day. She reached out again but he shook his head and backed away. 

"Come again soon," she whispered.

"Maybe," he said, and flew into the sky. He swooped up into the clouds and rolled, high over head, and she told herself that he had waved….

the end  
 __

  


_When the Man waked up he said,  
'What is Wild Dog doing here?'  
And the Woman said,  
'His name is not Wild Dog any more…"- Rudyard Kipling_  



End file.
